If Things Were Different
by kittykatloren
Summary: Sometimes, Rose noticed, darkness crept into the Doctor's eyes. It only happened when he thought she wasn't looking. She peered around the TARDIS motherboard to glimpse him staring at nothing, such sadness etched into the lines of his face that it made her breath catch in her throat. Rose/Ten oneshot.


**A/N:** More Rose/Ten angst, because they are the best. Ahhh. Feelings.

**Words: **686  
**Characters:** Rose, Ten  
**Time: **Season 2 ish  
**Genre:** Angst/Friendship

**Disclaimer: **Everything you recognize belongs to whoever owns Doctor Who. Not me.

* * *

Sometimes, Rose noticed, darkness crept into the Doctor's eyes. It only happened when he thought she wasn't looking. She peered around the TARDIS motherboard to glimpse him staring at nothing, such sadness etched into the lines of his face that it made her breath catch in her throat.

"Doctor?" she said softly. At once he raised his head; the darkness disappeared when his gaze fell on her. His face broke into an achingly familiar smile.

"Yes, Rose?"

She sidled over to him, wrapped her arm around his, and rested her head on his shoulder. "Nothing, really. I just thought… you looked a little sad. Whatcha thinking about?"

"Oh, just…" He covered one of her small hands with his larger one, warm and comforting. "That I'm glad you're here, Rose."

"But you're still lonely sometimes, aren't you?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, trying to charm her into changing the subject, but Rose set her jaw and frowned at him. His charm only worked on her when she let it – which, admittedly, was most of the time. But not today.

"It's hard to describe," he said at last. "Being the last of my kind. An emptiness of the very soul… Like a missing limb… no, no, like a missing heart. Like only half of me is here, is functional, and yet I still live and breathe and love - "

He trailed off with an embarrassed smile, running a hand through his hair.

"Tell me about them," Rose said, sitting cross-legged on the floor and drawing him down with her. "Tell me about the Time Lords, about your planet, your friends?"

At first, he hesitated. Rose squeezed his hand and smiled. The first stories he told were of the scenery, the history; slowly he delved into the people, the personal. His words wove a spell around her, the excitement and passion with which he spoke drew her into his world, and she wished she never had to leave. His friends, his family, his childhood - she learned bits and pieces only, but she fell in love with his world, almost as helplessly as she had fallen in love with him.

"But it's all gone now," he finished. "No more Time Lords, after me."

"What if you had a baby?" Rose said suddenly, impulsively. "Could a Time Lord have a baby with a human?"

At once the Doctor dropped her hand and stood up. "Don't say that. Don't ever ask that."

"What?! I wasn't saying that _we should_, I was just wondering if it were _possible_ - "

"Because it can never happen." His voice cracked. His hands on the TARDIS were white-knuckled and shaking. "You can't possibly understand, Rose – it doesn't matter if I _can_. I never will. Because it would kill me, Rose… it would kill me. I couldn't…"

Shakily Rose stood, her steps slow, uncertain. She touched his shoulder, and though he flinched a little bit, he did not draw away. "I'm sorry, Doctor. I didn't mean…"

"My child would live forever. Forever without his mother. A human mother would be just the tiniest blip in his early life, a vague speck in his memory. And I… I would be no kind of father." His eyes met hers, dark and vulnerable. "Not without her. I would be _nothing_ without her."

He grabbed her hand and looked away. "I'm sorry, Rose."

As he spoke, she noticed her eyes were filling with tears. When he said _his child_, she imagined he was saying _our child_; she couldn't help it. She saw in his eyes that he imagined it, too. With a trembling hand she touched his rough, stubbly cheek, trying to smile, trying to tell him she did understand, as much as she possibly could.

"I wish things were different," she managed.

He took her hand and kissed it, pressing it tightly to his lips. "Me too," he said against them. "Me too."

He pulled her into his arms, and they stayed like that for a long time. It was all they had, and nowhere near all they needed, but it had to be enough. His heartbeats were fast and loud in her ears, his hands gentle as they brushed over her hair. She curled her fingers around the lapels of his jacket, closed her eyes, and pretended, just for a moment, that she would never have to let go.


End file.
